Almost Easy
by TheMortician'sDaughter
Summary: Esme finds her husband just as he's stepping out of the shower, and as much as she tries to refuse, giving in to him is almost easy. Too easy, even. Fluff/lemony-ish. Rated M for safety. Canon.


**Heh. So, a certain friend of mine (*cough* theboywiththebread) persuaded me into writing this lemon-that's-kind-of-not-too-lemony-but-still-sort-of-classifies-as-one. I think it's more fluffy than lemony, but I just love Carlisle and Esme and wrote it anyway. I apologize for the crap ending. I'm not very good at conclusions… XD and this probably doesn't deserve an M rating, but I should just in case.**

**But anyway, I don't own the characters or anything, blahbity blah, and I hope you guys enjoy this, that is, if you chose to read it.**

The soft sound of the pitter-patter of water swirled around Esme's ears as she flitted around the top floor of the house, awaiting the moment when her husband would bring his shower to a close and, in all of his dripping wet, naked glory, stride out into the warmth of their bedroom. Just the thought of her husband's immaculate body emerging dripping wet from the steamy shower sent a shiver down her spine, but she hid the smile she could feel pulling at her lips as she organized the papers strewn across the mahogany desk in his study.

Letting the rather arousing images slip from her head, Esme picked up a manila folder from the corner of the desk that, to her at least, looked rather confidential and not something that should have been so casually sitting on a desk in plain sight. Knowing that it was mostly likely nothing of importance to her, she denied herself the urge to open it and instead began walking towards the bedroom she shared with Carlisle where she could hear the shower squealing as it turned off in the bathroom that was attached. She was looking down at the thick folder in her hands as she entered the room, so strangely enough she didn't notice the freshly-cleaned body of a man stepping out onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom.

Esme opened her mouth to call his name when she lifted her head, but instead she refused to let any sound from her mouth as she took in the backside of the figure about ten feet before her. To her surprise, he didn't turn around or make any move to show that he acknowledged her presence, so Esme stayed put and kept her mouth shut as she admired his figure.

Unfortunately for Esme, a towel was wrapped around Carlisle's waist, hiding his hips and upper thighs. However, the view of his back and what she could see of his front in the reflection of the mirror was certainly enough. She could see every single drop of water as it slid down the perfect curvature of his back and landed on where the towel sat low on his waist. The blades of his shoulders protruded from underneath his flawless skin, moving fluidly as he stretched his arms down towards the towel, beginning to remove it to dry himself off.

As his fingers wrapped around the fabric of the deep burgundy towel, Esme watched as the muscles of her husband's arms rippled beneath the skin. He shook out his sopping hair, sending little droplets of water all over the walls. Normally, that would have been something to scold one for, but any droplet of water and the place it landed on was considered lucky enough to have been in contact with his soft, thick locks of brilliantly blonde hair. Her eyes then traveled from the tousled hair upon his head, down his back, and stopped at where he was pulling the towel from his waist. Esme leaned her shoulder against the door frame as he pulled the fabric from his waist, revealing the rounded glory that she had been so diligently waiting to see.

_That ass._

Licking her lips, Esme let her eyes linger on the beautifully smooth, perfectly round and plump cheeks that sat at her husband's backside. It was the perfect size for someone of his stature, nether too small or large, flat nor chunky. The hem of the towel softly fell over the top of his gorgeous bum as he dried off his back, and Esme longed to reach forward and give it a good squeeze, but she fought the urge, knowing that she'd reveal her presence. She could smell the remnants of soap that flew from his hair as he shook it out once more, wincing at the scent of chemicals that were masked by a petty smell of strawberries and cream that somehow appealed to the human senses. At last, Esme allowed her lips to form the grin she'd been trying to suppress, looking away to the carpet for a moment. She pulled her fingers through her hair, failing to notice that Carlisle had turned around, the towel still in his right hand, covering nothing but his forearm.

"Esme?" He blinked in astonishment, wondering how he hadn't noticed her before. "How long have you been there?"

Esme slowly looked up, shamefully letting her gaze linger at the area below his hypothetical 'belt.' "Oh, uh… since the shower turned off. I –I found this folder on your desk and it looked important, so I was going to bring it to you, but you just got out of the shower and – well." She smiled and shrugged, finally looking him in the face.

"I distracted you, did I?" Carlisle grinned, completely conscious of his magnificent exposed manhood.

"Yes. Uh, yes, yes indeed. You're quite distracting, darling," Esme replied through the grin that mirrored her husband's. She'd nearly forgotten about the folder in her hands until Carlisle looked down at stared at it pointedly, taking a few steps toward her.

"Here, let me see that," he said. Esme handed it over and he took a few seconds to flip through it, before shrugging and tossing it aside onto the top of the dresser. "Nothing worth taking up space in your arms for." With that, he threw his arms around her, earning a surprised intake of breath from his wife.

Having been merely staring at his body for the past five or so minutes, Esme was thoroughly overjoyed to be not only able to admire Carlisle's structure from a closer distance but to be pressed against it. Feeling the sculpted muscles of his abdomen pressed against her own midsection was a sensation only the luckiest of women would have the pleasure of experiencing; and in this particular case, said 'luckiest woman' happened to be Esme Anne Cullen.

Not only was she pleased by his chest and stomach, but the one thing she'd been trying so desperately to not focus completely on was the hardness pressed against her thigh. She was well aware of Carlisle's intentions when he pulled her into the embrace without replacing his towel, and of exactly what he wanted. Her clothes were soaking through with the water Carlisle had neglected from wiping away, and she could feel his fingers toying with the bottom hem of her shirt as his lips proceeded to make work at her neck.

Letting a pathetic whimper of pleasure from her throat, Esme placed both her palms on Carlisle's chest and gently pushed him away, wearing a small smile on her face. "No. I can't, not right now."

Carlisle removed his face from the crook of her neck and looked her in the eyes, his face only mere inches from hers. "Did you really just refuse sex?"

Sighing, Esme absentmindedly ran her fingers through his damp hair. "You know, I think I did."

"How unusual." Carlisle grinned, sneakily sliding his hand beneath her shirt and up the soft skin of her back. "That's very unlike you." Just as Esme opened her mouth to reply, Carlisle captured her lips in a kiss, his arms tightening around her petite body as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Instinctively, Esme's hands reached towards his collarbone where the fabric of his shirt usually laid, but in this instance the somewhat bothersome article of clothing had already been removed.

Carlisle took advantage of his wife's moment of vulnerability to push her onto the bed that sat only a few feet away, flinging the towel that had been hung over his arm to the floor. Esme's back fell into the plush pillows that were scattered across the mattress, her mind having abandoned the notion that she actually had things to do around the house for the slab of sculpted perfection on top of her. She relished the sensation of Carlisle's tongue exploring every nook and cranny of her mouth and took the opportunity to do the same to his, setting their embrace further afire. Carlisle's hands roamed under her shirt, eventually managing to do away with the garment, tossing it aside towards where his towel lay abandoned on the floor.

"Changed your mind?" Carlisle pulled away from the heated kiss for a second, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. Gasping, Esme nodded, the tips of her fingers caressing his immaculate jawline. He proceeded to effortlessly unhook the back of her bra, moving the thin lace undergarment aside. Her bottoms came quickly after, along with the black panties that matched her bra.

After she felt the last of the fabric leaving her body, Esme fidgeted beneath her husband, her skin tingling under the expertise of his hands. Despite the fact that he'd memorized her body over and over again throughout the nine decades of their marriage, the sensation of his hands moving over her body in the most intimate of ways never failed to make her feel like her forever-frozen heart was about to skip a beat. She wanted him; she _needed_ him, like an addict needed heroin.

Knowing that Carlisle would continue to tease her if she didn't make a move, Esme wrapped her arms around his torso and dragged her fingernails down his back, feeling the shudder that ran through his body from head to toe. As it always seemed to, this did him in, forcing him to surrender as he threw caution to the wind and thrust inside of her.

At last, it was what they both needed. It'd been weeks – a month or so, maybe – since they'd been intimate with each other, and Esme led herself to wonder how she ever had brought herself to refuse it earlier. Their bodies moved with such fluidity, one of them answering each one of the other's trusts with one of their own. It was like the complex simplicity that went into the lovesick melody of a symphony, with only them as the conductor.

Eventually, the two peaked within mere moments of each other, and gently lowered themselves from the high. Carlisle flopped onto his back beside his wife, his head becoming lost in the sea of pillows. He pulled himself out of the feathery softness to place his head beside his wife's, absorbing her beautiful, glowing face. He lifted his hand to brush a piece of hair from her eyes, letting his palm linger on her cheek.

"Good thing I changed my mind," Esme remarked quietly, a giggle erupting through her voice. She placed her hand over Carlisle's, removing it from her face to lace their fingers together and give his a squeeze.

"Yeah. I think we both needed that," Carlisle chuckled, wrapping his free arm around her bare shoulders to pull her closer to his side. She willingly settled her head into the crook of his neck, the tip of her forefinger tracing lazy patterns into the smooth skin of his chest.

"You just made giving in to it almost easy." Esme grinned, turning her head to look up at her lover's. She found that he had done the same, wearing a grin that could only be described as cocky.

"Too easy?"

"_Much _too easy."


End file.
